Go, eat
by InkyTrue
Summary: Early in their partnership the eating machine stops.


At just a week in, Hardcastle expected a few adjustments and surprises as he and his new charge got to know to each other. The main surprise was he forgot how much a young man could eat! Skinny as a rail and he could continuously pack it away. Well, at least it'll keep up his strength when we need to fight the bad guys, the Judge reasoned. But, good lord, he hadn't seen a kid put food away like that since…since… Hardcastle turned his attention to his housekeeper. Sarah was not pleased. She kept glancing at the young man in question, who, for once, was _not_ eating. Instead, he was pushing the liver and onions around on his plate in an attempt to thin them out and look like he had eaten. A familiar ploy, Hardcastle remembered from experience, like a kid.

Hardcastle shook his head. "What's with you?" he asked. "Nothing," came the slightly sullen reply. "I thought you loved to eat? So eat." The scraping continued. "McCormick, Sarah has worked very hard to make us a nice meal. So, eat it!" He bit off the last two words. McCormick's eyes flashed, but his mouth stayed still. Instead, he shoveled in a huge bite and made a sour face as he did. Sarah rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her own plate. Hardcastle sighed and did the same. It was a long, silent dinner. Silent, except for the incessant scraping of McCormick's utensils on his plate.

"You know what I could go for? A nice, cold Pinky Fizz!" Hardcastle boomed out in an attempt the change the mood. Sarah's eyes darted to the refrigerator. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Honor, but there is none. They didn't have it at the supermarket. They said they'd have it in by tomorrow." Hardcastle nodded a bit cast down, when McCormick snorted. The Judge's head snapped up. "What's so funny?" "You! You tell me to clean my plate like a kid and then you want to finish up _your_ nice dinner with rot gut Pinky Fizz!" "Pinky Fizz is not rot gut, McCormick!" McCormick smiled. "Whatever you say, Judge. Look, can I be excused? It's been a long day." Hardcastle waved him off and McCormick got up. He paused for a moment. He knew it wasn't the housekeeper's fault that liver and onions reminded him of his desperate days in Juvie. How could she know, he hadn't told anyone how much he hated everything about that place. He cleared his throat. "Hey Sarah, thanks for the meal. Sorry I didn't eat more, just not that hungry, I guess." With that he cleared his plate to the sink and left. Didn't even bother slamming the door, Hardcastle noticed. The Judge sighed. "I'll take your plate, Your Honor. You go," Sarah said, reading his mind. He nodded. "It really was good, Sarah. Thanks." She smiled in understanding and took his plate.

"Hold up there, McCormick" the Judge called out as he hustled across the driveway. McCormick's head dropped, but he didn't turn around. He had made it halfway to the gatehouse. "What now?" "Look," the Judge said pulling up in front of him. "You sick? 'Cause I'm the guy responsible if you are." "No, Judge. I'm not sick. Okay?" "Then why didn't you eat your liver and onions? You're an eating machine! A garbage disposal with legs, but tonight - nothing! I say you're sick." "And I say you're wrong!" McCormick growled, eyes flashing again. Each held the other's gaze until unexpectedly, the Judge moved back, opening his hands wide. "So okay, set me straight."

For the first time since Hardcastle had known him, McCormick didn't have a comeback. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. Finally he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand." The Judge cocked his head to the side. "Try me." McCormick looked at him for a long moment and then gave a quick smile. "Not tonight, Judge. Remember, long day." Hardcastle let out a long sigh. "Well, you're right about that, so here." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "Here's a twenty. Go left, down PCH about a mile or so and you'll find Henderson's. Mom and Pop shop. I'm guessing they'll have something to tide even _you_ over til morning." McCormick just sat staring at the twenty in the old man's hand, wary. "You better take it. They close at nine." McCormick made up his mind and took the twenty. "Thanks." The Judge nodded. "Well, I can't have you malnourished or I won't get a full day's work out of you tomorrow." McCormick smiled, tucked the bill in his shirt and went for the Coyote.

The Judge had just rejoined Sarah in the kitchen when they heard the Coyote's engine roar. "Now, where is he off to in the middle of the night?" "Oh, I just gave him an errand to run…" the Judge cast about vaguely. Her eyes seared into his. "Aw, he just needed to get out. Stretch his legs, feel his freedom for a moment. You know how a ride in that contraption cheers him up." Sarah nodded and gave a small smile that was immediately replaced by a firm frown. "You're coddling him, Your Honor." "You think so, huh?" The Judge asked looking out onto the now empty driveway. She nodded sharply. "Duly noted," the Judge replied. "Hey! We still have some of that popcorn left? El Dorado is on at 9:00!"

Hardcastle was deep into John Wayne's dilemma when he heard the familiar gunning of the Coyote. He checked his watch, 10:02, a bit indulgent for a mile ride to the store. He was surprised when McCormick came into the kitchen (without slamming the door) brown paper bag in tow. Hardcastle was up getting a glass of water when McCormick handed him a six pack. "Pinky Fizz!" The Judge beamed like a little kid. "Mr. Henderson said he got the shipment in late. All the stores had to wait." McCormick handed over the change. "Pretty long time shopping," Hardcastle commented as he stuffed the money back in his wallet. "Well, you know me, Judge. I like to be an informed consumer." "Okay, wise guy come in here with me, but close the door. I don't want Sarah to smell your sandwich."

Hardcastle led him into the den. "What's this?" McCormick said pointing to the TV. "El Dorado!" McCormick cocked his head to the side. "Desperado? Like the song?" The Judge grimaced. "Dorado! Like the Duke! Don't you know anything about John Wayne?" McCormick shrugged. Hardcastle shook his head, kids these days. "Watch and learn," Hardcastle advised as he peeled off a can of Pinky Fizz and dropped into one of the high backed leather chairs. McCormick looked askance at it all, but then grinned. "When in Rome," he mumbled as he helped himself to some grade A rot gut. Hardcastle winked at him. "Now yer cookin'.'"


End file.
